A Twisted Couple
by Sarryn
Summary: (Update finally!) Somebody was bound to do it, or has already, but anyways yeah. The most theoretically wrong couple so far. SxU. I'm sorry, please review.
1. Default Chapter

Okay, I'm sorry. I'm truly, completely and absolutely sorry. But someone was bound to do it someday, if they haven't already. Please review and don't kill me…yet. I still have anime to watch and people to insult.

Angry Love: a Twisted Couple

[I'm very sorry for this. *sobs*]

We stood glaring. He brought his hand up as if to strike me, but he wouldn't dare. This we both knew. I wasn't helpless like Anthy, poor girl; I was a prince, her prince perhaps. Who knows? But back to the problem at hand.

"Saiyonji, leave us alone. Leave her alone," I hissed, hands tightening into fists. His violet eyes narrowed dangerously and small muscle twitched above his left eye. I could see the pale skin of his hands stretched taught over his clenched hands. Violence tainted the air. There was no turning back now. I could push this, push it past the breaking point and deal with the consequences. I wanted to, too. I wanted him to snap I wanted to snap. No one knew the depth of my anger and resentment, not at her, but at the world. How can I be a prince if the world won't cooperate?

"Never. The Bride is mine, Tenjou. She was mine, is mine, and will always be _mine_." He took a step forward. I held my ground.

"She's not a possession. She's a person. And she is as sure as hell not yours." The fist didn't come out of nowhere, but the swiftness of its appearance almost made it seem so. I jerked away, but his knuckles kissed my chin and I collapsed upon the marble floor. For some reason I noted that I lay in the center of one of those prolific rose insignias that pervaded the school.

"A duel then. Let's duel once again for her." He kicked me in the stomach as I struggled to my feet and I fell to the ground again. Pain lanced through my chin and stomach. Curled up, I heard the rage-filled tattoo of his shoes as he left me there. 

I lay there for who knows how long, rage and the desire for vengeance burning beneath my skin. Yet I aimed the rage at myself and not at Saiyonji. I shouldn't have let him hit me, not that there had been much I could've done…but still…

Ah Anthy. How must she feel to be regulated to a prize trophy for the victor of these pointless duels? I can only imagine and the picture I find isn't something I'd wish upon anyone, even Saiyonji for all his brutish behavior. I will free her one way or another. If only…

So to the dueling arena, if I can stand, and there our fates will once again be tested. What drives him to this dark obsession? Something Eternal? That sounds…familiar. But to disregard the very humanity in oneself for its sake, I cannot understand that. 

***

"Miss Utena, be careful." I accepted the white rose and gave Anthy a reassuring smile. She returned it, but, as always, there was something mechanical in her emotional responses. Like a puppet whose strings were pulled by the master's hand. 

"Let's begin," the green-haired tyrant growled brandishing his sharp katana. The silver blade gleamed like a deadly promise, reflecting the intensity in his seething violet eyes. A new energy crackled about him. Some new purpose that filled him with a frightening drive.

"Rose of the noble castle…" Anthy intoned, gathering the holy light to her breasts. With an ease born of practice she seemed to flow over my arm as I grasped the glowing hilt of the Sword of Dios. 

"Grant me the power to bring the world revolution." The blade pulled free trailing tears of glitter. Gently I set the fragile girl back on her feet and turned to face my opponent, the bruise flaring blue on my chin. His mark, his anger imprinted on my face. I would leave a mark too and not physical. He would never have Anthy as long as I reigned Champion Duelist. 

With a guttural yell, nothing human left, he charged bringing the deadly edge arcing for my head. I brought my own sword up to deflect the blow and we danced across the marble floor as the stoic Bride watched. Each block and thrust repeated itself from our second duel. Both of us knew what was coming. Inevitability has a habit of driving people beyond the rationale. 

Sweat trickled wetly down my back and into my uniform as I defended and attacked. Our swords sung with each blocked blow, roses bobbing with out lithe movements. The next strike brought us so close I could feel the hammering of his heart and feel his fevered breath on my damp face. Even as he raised his foot to kick me back I grabbed his arm. If I went down he would come as well. We were playing a different game now.

The blow threw me off my feet, but my grip on his arm remained firm. I landed hard on my back, the wind knocked out of me, and he slammed into me as my momentum dragged him down. I cried out as my sword, still held between us, bit into my chest. Somehow I knew that, upon falling across me, I had taken his teal rose as my sword cut across his heart.

He stared down at me in angry shock, denial burning in his violet eyes. I could practically see his thoughts reflected in those maddened eyes. He couldn't, or wouldn't, believe that I had bested him once again. Impossible? Obviously not or we wouldn't be like this. 

Neither of us moved as our blood sealed us together and filled the air with its acrid perfume. I ripped my gaze from his and sought Anthy for some unknown reason. I found her staring intently at us with something strange, never seen before, in her gentle green eyes. Pity? Regret…jealousy? 

"Damn you," Saiyonji growled. I looked back at him. Tiredness weighed down upon my haggard mind as he cussed me out. I didn't want to fight, I never had, but they made me. They just had to have their revolution at the cost of my friend's free will. 

"It's over, Saiyonji. Get off." He sneered cruelly and ground the holy sword into our chests, drawing forth more blood. The pain only served to…excite him. Heedless of the sharp implement piercing my chest I struggled to throw his offensive weight off. I would not let him make me a toy in his unreasonable anger. He would never see me submit. Wasn't that why he desired Anthy so much among other things?

"Damn you, Tenjou, damn you all." He grabbed a handful of my pink hair and jerked it cruelly. Involuntarily I cried out and tried to maneuver my free hand to punch him. Perhaps I would have, or perhaps not, but the next moment his angry lips descended upon my own. The kiss wasn't sweet or gentle. It was the surest rape of lips and tongue. He smothered my wrathful protests with his dominating mouth. He invaded my unwilling mouth and we dueled once again, and still it wasn't a game or at least a different one.

This wasn't for Anthy or the revolution of the world. No, this was pure domination. One of us would have to yield or both would be destroyed, but damn it if was going to be me. I fought back with the only means at my disposal. We battled for control of the heated kiss and the world outside faded into nothing but the sense of touch and rage. 

Suddenly he pulled away, chest heaving and the strangest fire burning in the depths of his eyes. Blood soaked his once pristine uniform as he drew away from me. He issued a parting obscenity as he strode away, katana hanging loosely in his strong hand.

Anthy came to my side and helped me sit up, hands gently removing the sword from my numb hand. I met her soft green eyes and felt the first tear slid down my cheek. I didn't know why I cried, maybe it was the pain of my injury or something else. For once she held me as I wept and she was the protector of my sobbing form. I don't know how she felt about it, but she accepted the role with the same acquiescence as she did everything else. 

***

Yes this is going to a many chapter story, dammit. I can't help it. Please review if you're brave enough. Yes it sucks, a lot, but hey, I had to do it. Oh and yes I know everyone's so out of character that only their names give them any semblance of the original cast of Utena. So sue me…wait…no don't because I don't own any Utena characters of plot. I'm a fraud…woe betide…or yeah. So sue and I'll gladly give you my sixty rolls of toilet paper from Costco! 


	2. Aftermath

Thanks for the encouraging reviews. I was thinking the same thing as well, but so many people out there are strict T+U, or T+S, etc., so I was afraid someone would say I was completely wrong/deranged/mentally unstable for writing this.

Angry Love: a Twisted Couple

She stared back at me with dark circles under her blue eyes. My reflection, I hate it sometimes. Especially when I look like I haven't slept for a month. Pink hair hung limply about my face and the white bandage twined around my chest battled with my skin to see which could be whiter. Personally I thought my skin was winning. 

Wakaba became worried when I didn't go to class for a week and came to visit me. I wish she hadn't. I couldn't explain my wound satisfactorily or my rent uniform. How could I tell her that her dear Saiyonji was responsible for the bleeding laceration? I could no more tell her that than of the world revolution. If I did something, most likely unpleasant, would happen to us. I refused to be responsible for her getting hurt again. Why is it that everyone I try to protect gets hurt?

She made me soup and told me to rest. Surprisingly she didn't push the issue, though she did keep giving me worried looks. Perhaps she thought I did this to myself? She should know me better than that. I smiled and chatted with her. We talked about school and our classmates. Before she left she gave me the homework I had missed and promised to visit the next day. I thanked her, but I felt such a profound sense of relief at her final departure that I couldn't help but feel guilty. I wish I didn't have to keep secrets, I'm no good at doing that.

Anthy entered the room carrying a stack of fresh towels. She smiled serenely and set them on the dresser. The rustle of terry cloth and Chuchu's snoring filled the room. I watched her graceful movements in the silver mirror. I could see why he wanted her so. There was something intoxicating about having complete power, complete sovereignty over another. I felt it, I'm ashamed to admit, but I wanted her voluntary friendship and not the parody she displayed because it was _my_ wish. 

"Anthy…" She looked up at me, ever obedient. The sight of her blank, trusting eyes wrenched my heart. I would–no _had_–to protect her. Perhaps when this vaunted revolution came she would have no need for me, no need for a prince. I could only hope.

"Yes, Miss Utena?" I met her patiently expectant gaze in the mirror.

"Nothing. Never mind."

"Yes, Miss Utena." She went back to her folding and I went back to watching her. Miki had wanted to protect her music; I wanted to protect her soul.

I touched the wound, pressing against the bandage until it blushed crimson. He had a similar mark over his heart where the rose had been, I didn't. My heart remained unscathed, at least physically. And the kiss…why? I couldn't…no, I wouldn't ask him about that. He had his reasons and that was that.

***

As I walked towards my dorm in the deepening twilight a figure stepped out of the shadows. Long hair swung around his slender, yet muscular frame as he waited patiently for my approach. A spike of fear shot through my heart and the wild urge to flee pulsed through my limbs. I almost did too, but to do so would be foolish and cowardly. So I didn't move.

"I heard about the duel." Touga Kiryuu? What was he doing?

"Really?" I feigned boredom though I felt my heart hammering in my chest. Most would hate him if they had to endure his machinations and cruel schemes, but I felt tired. Tired of his plotting and careless abuse of power. If he felt anything for me, even lust as he was only to quick to remind me, why did he have to be such a jerk about it? I didn't want or need that kind of crap.

"You won again." He stepped into the light and the street light illuminated his casual smile, yet something darker moved behind his carefully blank eyes. 

"Yes. So?" He circled me, moving close enough that the cloth of his uniform brushed me. I turned with him, keeping him in sight. 

"I heard other things as well." His hand shot and grabbed my breast, the one slashed by the Sword of Dios. I cried out and pulled away, the wound throbbing anew. In the wan light I could discern a darkness seeping through the cloth of my shirt. I would have worn my traditional outfit except that it irritated the wound. 

"So that part is true," he murmured staring at the blood staining his hand. "But I have to wonder about the other." I glared at him, partially turned away.

"What other part?" He shrugged so nonchalantly, a pleasant mask descending over his countenance. He was playing with me. I knew it. A stiff wind blew his crimson hair and ruffled my own rose locks. I watched him warily and he smiled in that charming manner he always used. 

"Nothing really. I just heard that you kissed Kyouichi Saiyonji after the duel." His voice was so silky, as if I could reach out and stroke it, a velvet wrapped dagger.

"You should get more reliable sources," I retorted and walked away. His large hand clamped around my wrist, fingers biting cruelly into the flesh.

"I hope so." He released me and walked away before I could say anything. I stood there staring angrily at his retreated form. He always did that, always had to have the parting shot. He acted as if he owned me. Just because of one little kiss?

Damn, how many people knew? Wakaba hadn't seemed any different. I think she would if she knew I had been kissed by her crush. Obviously the student council for rarely anything happened without them knowing it. Touga was proof of that. I truly didn't know which was worst. At least with Wakaba there would be no deceit. When had life become so complicated?

***

Again thank you. I'm glad some people like it. Yay. Anyways I'll get on the next chapter.

Now for some shameless self-promotion [sorry, but someone has to do it] Please read, as well, _Soul Vapor_. I think it's pretty interesting, of course I would, I wrote it. But yeah, that would make me doubly happy. Well, thanks for your time. Bysies


	3. The Dance, Part1

Angry Love: a Twisted Couple

A few weeks later a rather excited and nervous Wakaba pleaded with me to attend a dance with her. Not as her date, but as a companion so she wouldn't feel so odd going alone. She invited Anthy along as well, but I could tell she didn't want to. She didn't like my quiet Bride, perhaps she saw Anthy as a threat to her love of Saiyonji.

He would be there of course. That almost made me decline, claim the injury too serious, but I didn't. I couldn't leave her just because I was too cowardly to face that green-haired man. So I consented and she dragged Anthy and I out shopping. I hate shopping, I hate it more than anything else. What's the point? My old clothes are as good as new ones.

Then I thought of my only nice dress and decided that I loved shopping. That pink monstrosity that Touga had sent me so long ago still rested in the depths of my closet, never to see the light of day again, or at least I hoped so. I can't believe he thought it would suit me and I can't believe I wore it. Ah well, that's in the past.

Anthy purchased a dress of deep violet silk that feel gracefully to the floor. Wakaba found a slinky black dress. I teased her about its length and helped her pick out a pair of stiletto black sandals. I thought she would fall in them, but she seemed confident in her sense of balance. I can only say that I'd fall flat on my face in two seconds if I tried to wear something like that. 

I was the last one to find a dress and tried to stall as long as possible. I treated them to lunch and offered to pay for a movie, alas Wakaba grabbed me firmly by the arm and dragged me into a clothing store. I would have fought or cried except it was pointless and I'd just embarrass us all. Anthy followed faithfully never once uttering a contradictory word.

In what seemed like years later Wakaba finally deemed a dress worthy of me. I don't remember, or want to, how many dresses she forced me to try on. All I can of the experience is that if I saw another 'absolutely perfect' dress I'd hurl. The dress she approved of was a blue that was a shade darker than my eyes, or so she claimed, with an asymmetrical hem that fell in loose waves about my knees. 

I made her swear not to bother me about shopping for two months. She agreed and giggled before wondering what Saiyonji would be wearing. I couldn't care less.

If he was there then so would Touga. I didn't want to see either of them now, but friendship and all that. 

***

Have I mentioned that I hate parties? Dressing up and wearing a dress? Well, I do. The three of us, Anthy, Wakaba, and I, entered the gaudily decorated ballroom and stared, or at least Wakaba and I did. It looked more like a wedding, or funeral, than a dance. Yards of gauzy white fabric had been hung around the wall and hundreds of white balloons crowded the ceiling. We saw bunches of hot house flowers, white of course, scattered about and tied with pale blue ribbons. 

"Is this the right place?" I asked. Wakaba nodded vacantly and continued to stare about. Couples twirled by in expensive gowns and tuxedoes. I felt woefully underdressed. I turned to Anthy to make sure she was all right before merging with the crowd on the sidelines. 

"There he is," Wakaba giggled nervously and pointed to spot on my right. Indeed, Saiyonji stood there talking to several people I didn't know. Did he ever take off his uniform? Apparently not for he still wore it. It led me to wonder if he had an infinite supply of them or what. 

"Go ask him to dance," I told her. I didn't particularly want to see her with him, but I doubted that he'd do anything violent to her in public. Besides one little dance wouldn't end the world. 

"I can't, what if he says no?"

"He says no."

"I'd be _so _embarrassed. You ask him." I stared her in shock. Had I heard her right? "I know you don't like him, don't know why really. But please? Then tell me what it's like? Please?"

"You can't be serious?"

"Please?" I sighed in defeat and consented. One little dance wouldn't end the world my own voice mocked. Normally I wouldn't want to even look at him, much less dance with him, but the kiss–why do I keep calling it _the_ kiss?–made it doubly worse.

"Anthy, stay close to Wakaba so you don't get lost in all these people." The purple-haired girl nodded serenely and offered Wakaba a tranquil smile. I hated to leave her side, knowing the extent of her xenophobia, but Wakaba was my friend as well. Friendship…did Anthy understand it? Or was it like everyone said. She followed the will and wants of her 'master'. I wouldn't believe that. No girl, no human wanted to be a living doll, subject to the whims of whoever held power.

"Go, before someone else asks him," Wakaba hissed shoving me lightly in his direction and breaking into my dark musings. 

"I'm going." With a confidence I didn't feel I thrust my way through the writhing sea of flesh, the emerald of his hair my beacon. Sweaty arms of the dancers brushed me like clammy vines and felt the suffocating press of their ephemeral excitement. I kept telling myself that I could do this, that one dance wouldn't kill me. I hoped.

The last shifting wall of refulgent people parted and I stood in the half circle of empty floor that surrounded Saiyonji and the rest of the student council who sat there watching the dance. Miki gave me a small smile, stop watch in hand, and Juri merely cast a staid glance in my direction. Touga, fortunately, seemed to have disappeared to some place. Saiyonji regarded me with a sardonic sneer, the usual anger and resentment shinning in his eyes. I found that reassuring, if he could pretend nothing happened then so could I. 

I took a fortifying breath, ignoring the rioting butterflies in my stomach, and strode towards him. I stopped a few feet away, the first tendrils of uncertainty undermining my forced confidence. I could do this. _Wakaba you owe me_, I thought.

"Saiyonji…"

"What do you want?" he demanded in irritation. I felt heat rush to my face from a mixture of mortification and rage. Wakaba had never considered that he might turn me down.

"Would you…would you like to dance…now?" I growled balling my hands into fists. The last word came out as more of an order than a request. A look of surprise filtered into his lavender eyes as he stared at me. Dimly I noted that Miki and Juri were staring at me in shock. 

"You're asking me?"

"That's right. Yes or no?" He stood abruptly, forcing me to look up in order to meet his gaze. He glared at me, yet something indecipherable shone in his eyes. What would he say?

****

Okay I'm stopping this chapter there because I'm lazy. That and I need to take a break and do something else. So I'll just post this and pick it up again later. Please review if you are so inclined.

Oh and I am planing on writing another couple of stories with different pairings for our lovely pink haired girl. Miki in Sweet Love and anyone else, no matter how unlikely or completely wrong. 


	4. The Dance, Part2

Angry Love: a Twisted Couple

Saiyonji gave me a calculating look, cold eyes sweeping over my body. I glared at him and waited impatiently for an answer. He took his sweet time.

"Fine. I'll take that as a no," I growled and strode away. 

"You should be less impatient," he replied as his hand gripped my upper arm. "I'd be _happy_ to dance with you." His sarcastic tone made me want to throttle him, but that would attract too much attention. I could always do that if he pissed me off enough, though. 

We had some problems in the beginning of our dance: the song being played was a waltz and both of us wanted to lead. We struggled for a few minutes, each trying to forcibly guide the other. Finally I couldn't take it any longer, plus people were beginning to stare, and I relented. It was better to pick one's fight wisely, or so I've heard. Fighting over who got to play the 'male' part of the dance was pointless. 

After the initial bumbling we managed to execute the steps fairly well. I wouldn't call us professional ballroom dancers by any stretch, but we didn't step on each other's feet. Normally the couple is supposed to look into each other's eyes, that wasn't happening and I'm too short to look over his shoulder. I settled for staring _at_ his shoulder. 

Having never been lead in a dance, I concentrated on moving my feet correctly. My focus narrowed until there was only the movement of our bodies and sound of our breathing. Then I realized that that wasn't what I should be noticing, especially since we didn't feel like that for each other. 

I snapped back into reality just as the back of my legs struck something. I glanced over my shoulder and found we had danced all the way out onto the terrace and the railing had kept us from pitching into the garden below. A cool wind blew against us and we both came to the belated realization that neither of us had let go. 

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I demanded pushing him away. He glared with boreal coldness, lavender eyes seething.

"Dancing, apparently you don't know what that is." I flushed deeply, no one had ever commented upon my dancing ability before. My response was nothing more than a strangled cry of indignation. Without thinking I hauled my arm back and delivered a ringing blow.

The smack of flesh against flesh faded into the blaring music of the dance hall. He stood, face turned in the direction of the blow, and stared off into the shadows about us. He looked back at me with deliberate slowness. A wire of unease curled in my stomach as I viewed the reddish imprint of my hand on his cheek and the raging anger in his eyes. I took a step back, hit the railing again, and half-sat down. 

"You…Damn you." We stared at each other and felt the inevitability of our previous duel fill the air like warm honey. I knew what was happening even as his hand gripped my hair and jerked me to meet him. His lips fell upon mine with the ferocity of a tidal wave and the brutality of a hurricane. I could feel my mouth bruise under his assault even as it drew a warped response from some dark cavern of myself. 

I gripped the collar of his shirt in both hands and dragged him closer. He would not tower over me and feel that he could tame me, kiss me into submission. So much rage in each touch, so much mutual hurt. The kiss was not sweet or loving as I had always imagined a kiss to be. He had taught me that it could be violence contained.

Moments later, or perhaps hours, we jerked apart, breathing harshly. My mouth throbbed from the force of our encounter. I winced as I imagined how swollen it must appear. He took a step back and glared defiantly down at me. 

"Saiyonji…" Move voice froze as I happened to glance around him. Two people stood there, two people whom I didn't want to see at that moment. 

Wakaba burst into tears and ran back into the hall. Touga watched us from an adjacent doorway. He seemed to be surrounded by a frigid rage. He stood so still he might have been carved from marble or ice.

"Wakaba?" Ignoring him completely, I tore out after my friend. What had I done? I was supposed to dance with her crush, not kiss him. I pushed my way through the crush of people. Everyone seemed to be purposefully getting in my way. Angry shouts followed me as I shoved people aside, trying to catch a glimpse of my auburn-haired friend.

"Miss Utena, what is the matter?" A glanced to my right and found Anthy standing there looking as serene as ever. 

"Wakaba, have you seen her?" Demurely the girl shook her head and smiled sweetly.

"Are we going home now, Miss Utena?" 

"Dammit." Too many people, what did there have to be so many people. Wakaba, dammit, I didn't mean to do that. 

****

I'm sorry for the long wait. It was completely unintentional. I have to be in the mood to write, not have midterms and not be violently ill, to write. For past couple weeks, i.e. months, I have had a problem with one of those three. But I've written now, joy, so feel free to review. Oh and be warned I didn't reread this so grammatical errors abound. 


	5. The Dance, Part3

Angry Love: a Twisted Couple 

The night air surrounded me with chilling arms. Frantically I scanned the seemingly impenetrable darkness for any sight of my friend. Mentally I berated myself for my audacious foolishness. I should never have agreed. We hate each other. The kisses, for now it was more than once, were born of that deep-seated animosity. I had to tell Wakaba this. She had to believe me. I would never try to steal _Saiyonji_ away from her. 

Ankles threatening to turn, I ran in my heels down the walkway. The clatter of a similarly shod individual guided me past the open front gates of the house. There! A flash of auburn and pale limbs hurrying down the sidewalk. Doing an ungraceful hop dance, I removed my shoes while still trying to give chase. I cared not for the state of my nylons as I tore after her. She was far more important. 

Her cry of surprised pain pierced the night. I watched helplessly as her ankle turned—I had warned her about those damn shoes! Now that she was down for the count, I had no trouble catching up. I found her sitting on the sidewalk, holding her sprained ankle, and sobbing wretchedly. Large tears dripped steadily from her large eyes. Her skin was a splotchy and red. 

"Wakaba?" I queried gently as I placed a hand on her shoulder. She jerked away with a little choked wail.

"D-Don't you touch me, you traitor," she hissed, hunching over, away from me. 

"Please, Wakaba—"

"No! Just…No. You…you _kissed_ him. You _knew_ I liked him, and you still kissed him. Why?"

"I…" How could I explain this? How could I explain to her, so naïve in her own way, that this wasn't about desire or love? What Saiyonji and I have was conceived in a womb of hatred and anger. These kisses were its vile progeny, our accursed children. 

"I never meant to. Please, Wakaba, you have to believe me!" Her abrasive laugh shocked me into silence. I have never heard a sound so…jaded before. I never knew such cynicism could be contained in something that normally is so light.

"What about your prince, Utena?" She turned and glared at me even as she smiled. "What about your prince? Did you forget about him? Or is Saiyonji him? Did I ever even have a chance with him?"

I reeled back, away from the unadulterated rage burning in her brown eyes. Accusations poured forth more hurtfully from those blazing orbs than could ever be conveyed by lips. 

My prince, the man who was responsible for my being here. Saiyonji him? No, my prince could never, ever be Saiyonji. Nobility and high ideals filled my prince. He was so gentle, so compassionate; he could never be Saiyonji…

So what the hell was I doing?

Kissing some green-haired maniac, betraying the trust of my truest friend, forgetting about my prince…the list of my transgressions grew longer until it stretched off into a dark eternity. 

I would never be a prince. I would never be able to protect Anthy. I would never meet my own prince. 

"Pathetic. Just pathetic." With a small groan of pain Wakaba stumbled to her feet. I didn't that realize tears were coursing down my cheeks till she reached out and caught one with the tip of her finger. "You are pathetic, Utena. I guess your prince really meant nothing to you." She brought the moistened digit to her mouth and delicately licked it. "Mine did. He meant _everything to me."_

With that she turned and hobbled off. I couldn't move to follow her. I couldn't move. Scalding tears tracked down my cheeks and raspy sobs began to issue from my throat. I wanted to run after Wakaba, god knew I did, but just stood and cried. 

"Miss Utena?" A gentle hand touched my arm. 

"Let's go home, Anthy."

"Yes, Miss Utena."

*          *          *

The reason for the long, long wait for an update is quite simple: I lost interest. However, due to the continuous prodding of Teno Hikari (we loves ya, girl!), I have written a short little thing. I write when inspiration strikes. I hope this chapter, however short, meets with your approval.

I have undergone several writing phases, so it was a challenge to go back. This is from an earlier, more primitive era of my writing career, and as such, I find myself ill at ease with continuing. 

I have continued to use my spelling of Saionji's name, because it is too much work to change it in every preceding chapter. Please accept my apologizing for the romanticization of his name. 


End file.
